Potter is Missing
by NoticeMeNot
Summary: This is a snippet of what could have happened with the Heads of Houses while Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Professor Lockhart were in the Chamber of Secrets.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: I do not, nor will I ever own any part of J.K. Rowling's masterpiece.**

It was not a joyous occasion when three Heads of Houses found themselves in an audience with the headmaster in his office. On the contrary, they were all expecting the worst sort of news. One of the possibilities was that Ginerva Weasley had been found dead in the Chamber of Secrets. Or, perhaps another student had been petrified. It was a somber atmosphere indeed, even though the fireplace on the other side of the room was roaring, it seemed to have no effect for the chill in the room.

Professor Snape was the last one to join the gathering in the large, circular room. Professor Sprout stood beside Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick had opted to conjure himself a stool on which to stand. Otherwise, he would not have been able to see past Dumbledore's immense desk.

The portraits lining the walls of Dumbledore's office were not even pretending to be asleep. They were all wide-eyed, paying rapt attention to the arrival of the last Head of House, despite the late hour. Even Phineas Nigellus looked concerned. Snape took his place on the other side of McGonagall.

"Now that we are all assembled, I must impart some rather distressing news," Dumbledore murmured. The normally shimmering blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles were decidedly grave. "It seems that Mr. Potter and Mr. Ronald Weasley have not been seen at all since earlier this evening. They were last observed in the Gryffindor common room."

Professor Flitwick swore loudly, and Professor Spout clasped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes were glossy.

Although Minerva McGonagall was the one who had reported that very fact to the headmaster only a few minutes earlier, her face paled a little further. For a moment, she looked as though she might faint, but her Scottish constitution did not fail her. Dumbledore conjured a red squashy chair for her to sit down. He then offered her a lemon drop, which she politely declined.

Dumbledore continued after McGonagall seated herself. "Professor Lockhart has also apparently absconded this evening. His possessions were packed, as though he intended to leave, but did not get the chance to."

"Thank heaven for that," Flitwick hopefully assessed from his perch. "Maybe whatever is trying to murder children will go after Lockhart first."

The Potions Master didn't quite believe what he was hearing, even though it was Albus Dumbledore who was telling him that it was so. Potter was missing, two Weasleys were missing, and that pompous idiot, Gilderoy Lockhart was missing. Snape found his eyes drawn to the many interesting trinkets on Dumbledore's desk, though he was not really seeing them. His hand tightened on the wand at his side and he clenched his jaw.

"I should have kept a better eye on them, Albus," whispered McGonagall. "Now I fear that they may all be dead." She leaned her head into her hand, making her spectacles go ever so slightly askew.

"Merlin's pants, Minerva, this is not your fault. This is the fault of whoever perpetrated it." Flitwick muttered quietly.

"What are we to do in the interim, headmaster?," interjected Sprout, trembling slightly. Dumbledore rose out of his seat and turned toward Fawkes, who had been softly dosing next to him. He took his time stroking Fawkes' feathers before replying. "Should they all not be found safely before tomorrow morning, and should these events remain unexplained." He paused. "Then the school will be closed." The gravity of the situation was abundantly clear before the headmaster uttered a word.

"Minerva," he looked toward her. "I want you to stay here with me. Molly and Arthur are with Poppy at the moment. I would like your help in telling them about Mr. Weasley." McGonagall nodded, never moving her hand from her face.

"The rest of you", he looked them each in the eye, "will make sure all of the common rooms are secure before patrolling your usual corridors." He paused once again. "If you please, Professor Sprout, also wake Professor Sinistra and Professor Vector and inform them of these events."

He then directed his attention to the tiny Charms Professor. "Filius, have Professor Kettleburn search the grounds again." Dumbledore stared at the two of them. "I would like a report every hour, if you please. Pair up and good luck" he finished. Both nodded before departing; Flitwick vanished his previously occupied stool in his wake.

"And who is to accompany me, headmaster?" Snape queried, stepping forward slightly.

"I have found, Dumbledore began, "that when some individuals work alone, it is when they do their best work. Be careful Severus." Snape gave his usual slight inclination of his head and briefly acknowledged Professor McGonagall before turning on his heel and began rapidly winding his way down the staircase leading from Dumbledore's office.

"Was that wise, Albus?," said McGonagall finally, shifting in her seat. "Sending him by himself?" Dumbledore wasted no time before speaking. "Severus is an exceptionally capable wizard, Minerva. He is one of the best that this school has ever produced."

The headmaster paused as he walked out from behind his desk. "Whatever entity that has taken the students should be substantially more afraid of meeting Severus Snape in the dark than the other way around. If by morning, Severus has not started dismantling the castle brick by brick, I shall be very surprised indeed." added Dumbledore. "He is in his element, Minerva. Let him be."


	2. Chapter 2

It was common knowledge that Minerva McGonagall could handle herself; indeed, many dark wizards lost sleep over the thought of being hexed by her. Before his death, Armando Dippet had said that she was one of the brightest and most talented witches of the century-a comment very few people disputed. Be that as it may, the current headmaster simply could not bear to send his deputy alone to retrieve Mr. and Mrs. Weasley from the infirmary. Not with a monster on the loose, no matter what Minerva's capabilities. Although she wouldn't admit it, Dumbledore knew that McGonagall did not like the floo network because the soot always got her robes dusty. They could have done side-along apparation, but he was not willing to take the chance of suddenly appearing, catching someone by surprise, and something going horribly awry. No, it was best to walk.

Perhaps Dumbledore thought that whatever was presently terrorizing the school would think twice before attacking them both at the same time. Or, maybe that was what he was counting on and he wanted McGonagall at his side. Whatever his logic, he and McGonagall walked together in companionable, but tense silence with their wands at the ready.

As they headed down the many floors from the headmaster's tower to the infirmary, unbeknownst to them, farther up on the grand staircase Peeves was determinedly loosening some enchanted paintings from the wall. It seems that on any occasion, a Poltergeist's work is never done.

With impeccable timing, one fell from a great height and landed right beside Minerva with a resounding crash. Startled, she lost her footing and began to fall. Like lightening, Dumbledore grabbed her by the arm and set her to rights. "Apologies, Minerva," he said, looking mildly concerned. Are you alright?

"Besides the heart attack, I'm perfectly fine, headmaster," she said indignantly as she attempted to straighten her normally pristine hat and robes. "Thank you." Then, Dumbledore hastily cast a patronus charm and sent it to the staff to inform them of the ruckus, so that they would not be alarmed.

He turned his attention upwards, "Peeves," he boomed. There was no need to be quiet at this point-the falling painting had given their location away. Peeves was normally a dull shade of an almost translucent white. However, if possible, he paled even further as he floated quickly to their location, hovering at Dumbledore's eye level. All the portraits in the castle were now awake and clambering to get a look at the upcoming discussion. Peeves was going to get told off, and to them it was as though Christmas had come early.

In Peeves' defense, it was unusual for the headmaster to be strolling the corridors at night. Peeves probably didn't anticipate his target would be the headmaster and the deputy headmistress. Usually, Dumbledore reserved walking around the castle for only when he went to the kitchens to find something sweet. Otherwise, he pretty much apparated wherever he needed to go. Being the headmaster had its privileges.

"Peeves," he began dangerously, but before he could get out another word, McGonagall had apparently gathered herself enough to wandlessly cast an ebublio and a ventus jinx in rapid succession, which encased Peeves in a floating bubble and then sent a gale force wind in his direction, careening him away. His muffled swearing and grumbling could be heard for some time. The portraits looked highly entertained and even McGonagall almost cracked a smile. "Remind me not to get on your bad side, my dear." Dumbledore said with amusement. "As long as you don't throw portraits at me, Albus, we are on the same side." She threatened playfully. After a brief, sobering moment, McGonagall and Dumbledore collected themselves and continued the rest of their descent to the first floor. It seemed inappropriate to tease one another at a time such as this.

They walked for a few more moments, and as they approached the infirmary, Molly Weasley's indiscernible crying could be heard through the immense, magical doors. For a moment, McGonagall looked mortally pained and she turned her head away to take a deep breath. Dumbledore knew that she was trying very hard not to lose her composure in front of him. He chivalrously pretended not to notice; in fact, he took the the opportunity to strenuously examine a particular, but unremarkable divot in the stone floor. She turned back around and looked at Dumbledore one last time. His blue eyes seemed to be drained of all of their usual electric vivacity. She nodded in his direction, signalling to him that it was alright to open the doors. At last, he did.


	3. Chapter 3

Snape was positively murderous, for several reasons. For one, and on a less important note, his leg was absolutely killing him. It was the one the damn three-headed dog had mangled and nearly ripped off the previous year. Since it is perpetually cold in Scotland, the weather made his old injury ache constantly, but tonight it was particularly bad because of torrential rain that was now falling. He was limping slightly, but it was not going to slow him down. He was headed to the disapparation point just beyond the grounds, and he was nearly there. His wet hair was weighed down and his dragonhide boots left deep imprints in the mud.

At the top of his list, and most importantly, he was livid because of Harry Potter's disappearance.

This entire fiasco reeked of pompous pureblood ideology, and who did he know who fit that bill? Well, several people. If he was truly honest, pretty much every dark wizard on the Western European continent. But on multiple occasions this year, he had rattled off a certain list with Dumbledore and they always came to the same conclusion. Most of the old death eater crowd was painfully rotting in Azkaban. The rest were either not smart enough or too dead to pull this kind of stunt. All except for Lucius Malfoy. This was just the subtle sort of savage sneakiness that he was known for. Lucius never like to get his hands dirty, at least not directly.

Snape had had his suspicions concerning Lucius' involvement earlier in the year, of course, what with the Board of Governors oddly choosing to remove Dumbledore as headmaster. Unfortunately, he could not find a way to act on his hunch without arousing suspicion. But, tonight was as good of an excuse as Snape was going to get. He had to pay a visit to a very old _friend_.

The castle was now in the most capable of hands, so he felt no qualms about leaving. He could floo and let the Malfoys know he was coming, but that would be too considerate for the likes of Lucius, and besides, he was running out of time. He had just reached the gates when Dumbledore's patronus found him and informed him about some prank of Peeves. He then spun on his heel in agony and disapparated. The crack of his departure could not be heard over the rain.

Malfoy Manor spun into view. Snape strode through the wards and up to the door. No doubt Lucius was already aware he was here. A house elf in a wrinkled white pillowcase opened the front door for him, and he was greeted by Narcissa, who was in a pale pink dressing gown, evidently getting ready for bed.

"Severus, what an unexpected pleasure," she said demurely. "Narcissa," he acknowledged. I am afraid this is not a social visit. Where is Lucius?

"I gathered not from the state of your appearance and the lack of forewarning," she admonished. You are soaked through, Severus. He hastily cast a drying spell on himself as an afterthought. She looked concerned and stared into his eyes. "There's nothing wrong with Draco, I hope?"

"No," he reassured. I'm here regarding a completely different matter." "

Oh, good." She let out a breath.

"Lucius was reading in his study but a few moments ago." I trust you know your way, but I'll take you to him. How are you Severus?

"Tolerable, I suppose." Narcissa smiled.

Lucius' study was fairly deep within the manner, but they got there quickly enough. "I was actually hoping to speak with you on a private personal matter, but I can see that you are very busy at the present. But, when you have a moment, please come see me." He nodded in assent. She knocked, opened the study door for him, and called softly "Lucius, Severus is here to see you."

"At this bloody hour?"

"Yes, and I'm retiring." Goodnight.

"Goodnight," Lucius echoed. There she left him and retreated to wherever her bedroom was.

"Severus, do come in."

Severus crossed the entrance to the study, and the heavy mahogany door slowly shut behind him. Lucius had his back to him and was staring at the grounds through a large, ornate window with a glass tumbler in his hand.

If Lucius refused to talk, this could get very messy, very fast indeed, but Narcissa need not be involved. Snape wandlessly cast a mufflatio on the room. If he had to torture Lucius, if he had to obliviate him, if he had to curse the truth out of him…he would and he would not be disturbed.


End file.
